December carries a unique emotional weight. Even when you’re doing “okay” in your grief, even when you’ve learned how to navigate life differently, something about this month tends to stir old memories, new tenderness, and unexpected waves of longing.
As the lights go up, the invitations roll in, and the familiar rituals of the season begin, grief often shows up differently and more intensely. If you’re feeling that shift, you’re not alone.
And you are not doing anything wrong.
Why Grief Intensifies in December
The pressure to be joyful
December arrives with an unspoken expectation that we should feel festive, grateful, and bright. For someone who is grieving, that pressure can feel like a weight. People often tell me, “Everyone else is so happy. I feel out of step.”
But grief doesn’t obey the calendar. If your emotional world doesn’t match the outside world, that doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you.
Traditions that shine a light on absence
While I recently wrote about how traditions evolve, there’s another layer that emerges this month. Certain traditions don’t just change, sometimes they sit differently inside us.
This is especially true when the person who used to anchor that tradition is gone.
My mom absolutely loved Christmas. She brought a kind of joy and energy to our family gatherings that only she could. I’ve learned something surprising over time:
I miss her the most when I’m surrounded by family, not when I’m alone.
It seems counterintuitive, but being near the people she loved, celebrated, and doted on makes her absence more pronounced. She was always at the center of it.
And that’s the thing about grieving someone who was a central light, even a room full of people can feel like it has an empty space.
The contrast of darkness and light
Winter brings longer nights and slower rhythms. For many, that quiet amplifies reflection. And yet December is filled with light, whether it’s candles, windows glowing, or trees twinkling. Darkness and light sit beside each other, just like grief and love.
This season mirrors that duality.
The year’s end invites reflection
December encourages us to look back at what we’ve experienced, who we’ve become, and who is no longer here. Reflection itself can magnify grief, not as a setback, but as an expression of continued love.
A Line From My Favorite Christmas Movie
My favorite holiday movie has always been It’s a Wonderful Life.
Near the end, Clarence the angel offers this line:
“Strange, isn’t it? Each man’s life touches so many other lives.
When he isn’t around, he leaves an awful hole, doesn’t he?”
I think about that line often, especially in December.
Because grief isn’t just about missing the person themselves. It’s about missing the many ways they touched our lives:
- the roles they played
- the encouragement they offered
- the laughter they sparked
- the comfort they provided
- the traditions they shaped
A single life doesn’t leave a single hole.
It leaves dozens, in big ways and in small, tender ways.
And December has a way of illuminating all of them.
What I See in Grief Groups This Time of Year
In the grief groups I help facilitate, December themes come up again and again. People share that they feel:
- guilty for not being “in the spirit”
- lonely, even when surrounded by others
- unsure how to join celebrations like they used to
- overwhelmed by memories that land without warning
I often return to a teaching I received after my husband John died, something a Buddhist teacher shared with me:
We hold joy in one hand and pain in the other.
In early grief, the hand holding pain feels impossibly full. Over time, joy finds a bit more room, but both remain. December often reminds us of that balance and how natural it is.
A Gentle Personal Reflection
Over the years, I’ve learned that grief doesn’t disappear. Instead, it transforms. And December seems to open a doorway to reflection. Loving my mom, loving John, loving my elders and the traditions they shaped — all of that still lives in me.
But so does the tenderness of missing them.
Both truths can be held at once.
How to Care for Yourself in December
Here are some gentle practices that can help you navigate this month:
1. Give yourself permission to feel what you feel
Your emotions don’t have to match the season.
2. Create a simple ritual
Light a candle. Write a message to the person you miss. Sit quietly with a memory that brings both ache and warmth.
3. Set boundaries around gatherings
It’s completely okay to decline, step outside, or leave early.
4. Name your needs
Tell someone you trust:
“I’m feeling tender this month. I might need extra support or space.”
People can show up more compassionately when they understand what you’re carrying.
5. Plan for emotional waves
If a holiday or memory-heavy day is coming, make a small plan such as a walk, a call with someone who “gets it,” journaling, or a comforting ritual.
6. Honor what you miss and what you still cherish
Both matter. Both belong.
A Closing Reframe: Grief as Love in Motion
If your grief feels different this December, it doesn’t mean you’re going backward.
It means your person mattered and still matters.
As Clarence said, a single life touches so many others.
It’s only natural that their absence touches us, too.
There’s tenderness in that truth.
And there’s love in it, too.
A Gentle Invitation
If this season feels heavy, or if you need a place to reflect and breathe, I’m here.
A Peace-of-Mind Planning Session or a supportive conversation can offer space, clarity, and comfort without expectation or pressure.
